


The Unmasking

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Series: Taking Liberties [6]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-04
Updated: 2006-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is the conclusion to the Taking Liberties series. It contains references to the Rimmer/Kochanski/Holly relationship established in Krissie Kringle, as well as references to the Rimmer/Lister relationship from Christmas Spirits; as such, it's obviously got a bit of sexual content.</p><p>Dedicated to the RDSS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unmasking

**Author's Note:**

> Red Dwarf characters belong to Grant Naylor.

An empty absinthe bottle rolled across the floor and clinked gently against the table leg. The paper streamers that had formerly been strung in a web around the slowly revolving disco ball now hung limply from the ceiling, as if they had a bad case of brewer's droop. The bunches of balloons were now nothing more than bundles of split rubber.

Holly appeared on the Arcadia's vid-screen, yawning, and peered around to see if anyone was still in the room. No. AJ was still missing, then. She shook her head, then winced. A quick reboot of her mental faculties cleared the effects of the virtual chardonnay she'd been drinking, but didn't enlighten her any further as to where Rimmer might have gone.

She hadn't meant to make him storm out in a huff, and in retrospect changing the door lock so he couldn't get back into their room had probably been a little bit too spiteful. It wasn't until Kris had come and told her that Rimmer was missing that Holly had realised that she'd pissed him off more than was usually remediable with a hug and a kiss and an apology.

'Hol, Jesus, you didn't need to yell at him like that.'

'He'll get over it,' Holly muttered ungraciously.

'You can't expect him to wait for us every time.'

Holly had walked in on Rimmer masturbating in the shower. Much as she hated to admit it, she didn't like him doing it. She felt ridiculous, controlling, but wished he'd just damn well be patient and wait to share his orgasm with her and Kochanski. She'd yelled at him, and he'd grabbed his Halloween costume and walked out. It should've been innocuous, but when she'd tried to call him back on the ship's comm system (merely paging him by name, rather than yelling, 'Oi, Rimmer, get back here, I don't care if you wank without me'), he'd ignored her. Hence the changing of the locks.

Holly and Kochanski had still gone out for the Halloween partying happening shipwide, dressed as an angel and a devil respectively. They'd kept their eyes peeled for Rimmer, but given that the party was a moving thing, almost sentient in its own right, neither of them saw him. Besides, he was wearing black, and perhaps half of the partygoers were also wearing black. Black cats, Batmans, spiders, dark elves, demons... in the writhing sea of costumes, black was everywhere and Rimmer was nowhere.

* * *

Lister leant against the bar, surveying the crowd. He'd been too broke to afford a proper costume, but was wearing a purple beanie with dangling spider-legs hanging off the sides - he had no idea where it had come from, but it seemed to be enough of a nod to the holiday that nobody had yet accused him of being a party pooper. Over to his left, two NeoPagWiccans were having a screaming match about the proper pronunciation of 'Samhain'.

'Seen Petersen?' Selby asked.

'Considerin' what I heard he's wearin', I'd rather not,' Lister said. Rumour had it that Petersen had been coerced into wearing nothing more than a posing pouch. McGruder evidently had some clever secret method of persuasion. It probably involved oral sex.

Selby lit a cigarette and blew a thoughtful smoke ring. 'More beer?'

'Thanks.'

'This is so boring,' Chen complained. 'Can't we go somewhere else?'

Lister nodded his head at the press of people. 'Think you can get through that?'

Chen sighed and accepted a fresh beer from Selby. 'Point taken.'

* * *

Rimmer's forehead was starting to get sweaty under the black swath of fabric wrapped around his head, but nobody had recognised him yet - although _everyone_ had recognised the costume. He'd only seen _The Princess Bride_ once, but wearing all black and carrying a sword looked damned sexy, or so he'd thought when he'd looked in the mirror.

Best of all, Holly and Kris didn't know what he was wearing, so maybe he could get away with spending the night talking to other people for a change. It wasn't that he felt stifled by the relationship, but Holly was really starting to get on his nerves.

He made his way through the crowd, vaguely aware of the people around him - an oversized Muppet patted him on the backside, Darth Vader wolf-whistled at him, and a girl wearing a mesh singlet and a very short leather skirt winked at him and said, 'Lookin' good, Westley!' - but mostly just worrying about finding a clear space to stand still for a few minutes and catch his breath.

Suddenly the whole crowd went silent for a brief moment, and then a chant of, 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' started. Rimmer craned his neck and stood on tiptoes and, by virtue of being taller than most people present anyway, managed to see what was going on. Two girls, both dressed in black and silver, were rolling around on the dance floor, scratching and biting at each other. The eyes of the crowd around them glittered oddly under the lights, and Rimmer pushed through the crowd, grabbing the girl who was on top by her collar and pulling her up and away.

'Stop that!'

The crowd moaned with disappointment.

'She started it,' his captive protested, trying to kick him in the shins.

'I don't care. Play nice.' Rimmer raised his voice. 'Someone get these girls a drink and somewhere to sit down!'

A couple of bottles of some sort of hideously brightly coloured vodka mixer duly arrived, and Rimmer deposited his captive on a nearby barstool, whose occupant vacated it only just in time.

'Now. What was that all about?'

The girls looked down at the floor rather than at him or each other. They were both young, beautiful, with extravagant makeup and jewellery that somehow didn't seem over the top on this particular night.

'Come on.'

'...'s nothing,' one of the finally muttered.

'People don't fight like that over _nothing_.'

The one closest to him - the one he'd picked up - looked at him sulkily. 'You wouldn't understand.'

'Try me.'

'She's right,' came a familiar voice from beside him. 'You wouldn't understand.' Rimmer didn't have to turn his head to sense the brief grin that formed on the speaker's lips. 'I've been here watchin' them for ten minutes and I don't understand.'

'It's a religious discussion,' the other girl said as Rimmer turned to look at Lister. 'You see, the correct-'

But whatever else she was going to say was caught up in Rimmer's flood of laughter as he saw Lister's idiotic-looking headgear.

* * *

Lister turned to the NeoPag girls and rolled his eyes. 'Does it really look that bad?'

'Well, yeah, kind of,' the girl closest to him said.

Lister sighed and turned back to the man in black. The flashing disco lights made it hard to really tell, but he thought he knew that mouth. When it stopped laughing and the tongue came out to lick the lower lip, he _knew_ he knew.

Since Chen and Selby could keep themselves amused (quite possibly with the NeoPag girls), Lister grabbed Rimmer's hand and towed him through the crowd, which moved for the man in black who had just broken up the most interesting happening of the night. A few resentful voices were raised, but Lister left them behind quickly (and hoped nobody would follow).

'What made ya stop them, man?' he asked as soon as they reached the relative quiet of the corridor outside the Arcadia.

Rimmer shrugged. 'I just get tired of pointless arguments.'

'Have you had many lately?'

'Maybe.'

Lister finally let go of Rimmer's hand, but it was like he hadn't, as Rimmer followed him step by step around the people standing or sitting in the hallway. 'So, where're Hol and Krissie?'

'Who knows?'

They eventually made it to the lift; it too had people in it who were disinclined to move, but there was room for two more people to squeeze in, and nobody much cared which floor they went to.

'Are ya gonna tell me what happened?' Lister asked as they got out of the lift.

'Holly kicked me out.'

Lister felt his eyebrows twitch. 'Permanently?'

'I doubt it. I think she'd want me back eventually.'

'You can always stay in my room for the night,' Lister offered. 'Me roommate's not been home for weeks.'

'He's not dead, is he?'

'You never know.'

Compared to the party, Lister's room was a haven of silence. He sniffed the air as he walked in and was pleased to note that nothing smelt rotten... although having as much spare time as he had of late to do nothing but tidy had to have helped.

Rimmer pulled his mask off and dropped it onto the table. 'Ye gods, it's clean in here. Haven't you got anything better to do than mop the floor?'

Lister put the kettle on. 'Yes. I do have work occasionally. Not all of us can be living in a three-way relationship with two beautiful women.' He liked the way Rimmer half-turned away and started running his fingers through his hair rather than replying.

'Listy?'

'What?'

'Take the stupid smegging hat off.'

Lister took the stupid smegging hat off and put it on the table beside the coffee cups. 'Tea or coffee?'

'Cocoa.'

'You always have to be the odd one out, don't you?' Lister said, opening the cupboard to find the cocoa tin, and only realising the faux pas he'd committed when he turned back around and Rimmer was furtively swiping at his eyes with a tissue. 'Aw, smeg. What's wrong?'

'Lately I've been feeling so _used_,' Rimmer sniffled.

Lister made the cocoa and dropped an extra marshmallow into Rimmer's mug, then sat down beside him. 'Tell me.'

Rimmer explained, between slurps of cocoa, just why he'd been booted from his room and how he felt Holly was getting less and less considerate of him as a person.

'We don't do anything _relationshippy_ any more,' he said through a mouthful of marshmallow. 'It's all just sex fitted in around work shifts and dinner cooking and cleaning and I'm getting sick of it.'

Lister patted his hand, trying not to let it linger. 'Well,' he said. Then he had to pause and think of what exactly to say next. 'Well, stay here tonight then. You could stay for a few days, even, and then see if they missed you. I do have a spare bed here.'

'What about your bunkmate?'

'Mitchell? He spends all of his time with that girl from the library. Don't worry about him.'

* * *

Half an hour later, Rimmer was glad he'd accepted Lister's offer. _The Princess Bride_ was playing on the television, and Lister was sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, while Rimmer lay on Mitchell's bunk and worked on his second cup of cocoa. In general, it was comfortable and relaxing, which time spent with Holly of late definitely _wasn't_.

'I might have known you'd own this movie, you sentimental idiot.'

'Shut up, Rimmer.'

* * *

Once the movie was over, Rimmer looked down and realised that Lister was asleep, his arm curled under his head as a pillow, his breathing quiet enough that Rimmer knew he'd only just fallen asleep. Rimmer turned the television off and then lay back down, looking at Lister's sleeping face, tracing the curve of his cheek with his eyes, musing on just how peaceful he looked.

'I'm awake,' Lister said without opening his eyes. 'And starin' at me like that is creepy.'

'I thought you were asleep.'

Lister sat up. 'Nah.' He began reassembling his bedding in its proper place on the upper bunk. 'Probably time to sleep, though.'

'And you really don't mind if I stay?'

''Course not.'

Rimmer got up. 'I need a shower first.'

'Don't use all the hot water.'

Rimmer didn't have his pyjamas with him, but sleeping in his boxer shorts would do; it wasn't as if the ship was freezing cold, afterwards, and the blankets were nice and warm. He tried to shower quickly - making his hair feel less greasy was the main objective after all.

Once he'd finished, Lister took his turn in the shower. Rimmer listened to Lister humming and felt strangely comforted by the sound. He moved to wash up the cocoa cups, and then remembered that if he turned the water on it would kill the water in the shower. He settled for dumping the cups in the sink and hoping they wouldn't smell too badly in the morning.

Lister came out of the shower and went straight to his bunk, yawning. Rimmer turned the light off and crawled into Mitchell's bunk, hoping the man (whom he'd never met) wouldn't mind.

'Rimsy?'

'Yes?'

'This was better than gettin' drunk.' Lister's tone held a note of wonderment. 'Thanks.'

'Yes, well, I didn't mean to make you leave.'

'You didn't _make_ me do anythin'.'

'If you hadn't dragged me out of there, someone would've started another fight - with me. I saw the looks on their faces.'

'Never mind.'

'Listy...'

'I said never _mind_.' He sounded amused more than irritated, fortunately.

'No. I wanted to thank you.'

'For what?'

'Making me feel like someone actually cares about me.' Rimmer rolled over and looked into the darkness that was the underside of Lister's bunk. 'Very considerate of you.'

There was a long silence before Lister said softly, 'I _do_ care.'

* * *

It took three more days of working and watching vids together, of breakfasts together and of hot dinners, and - at last - a bout of slow, loving sex for Rimmer to admit that alright, yes, maybe Lister really _did_ care about him.

And it wasn't even the end of the world when Holly and Kochanski found out, either. In fact, the person who came off worst from the whole situation (in his own estimation, at least) was Lister's roommate, who was the first one to find out that Lister and Rimmer were, well, being intimate.

In his bunk.

On his sheets.

Using his springs.

As it were.


End file.
